


Ice and Blood on the Winter Line

by Natalya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Forgiveness, Guilt, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1829155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natalya/pseuds/Natalya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not just Bucky who has nightmares.  Steve has things that he needs to work through and this time Bucky is not going to let him get away without talking about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice and Blood on the Winter Line

The room was pitch black, no light coming through the thick curtains. Bucky’s eyes snapped open suddenly as he heard a strangled sound from Steve sleeping next to him, wrapped tightly in the duvet. He reached over, flicking on the bedside light, blinking in the sudden change of brightness. Steve was there, dead still, huddled in on himself, as though trying to hold himself together in his sleep. Another strangled sound escaped him, halfway between a moan and a sob and Bucky reached out, hand firmly on Steve’s shoulder, shaking him gently. That was the difference between them. When Steve had nightmares he turned it inwards, didn’t lash out when woken. Bucky was the opposite, lashing out violently if anyone touched him in the throes of a nightmare. Steve settled for calling his name. 

“Steve.” He shook him harder, not getting a reaction from him. “Stevie, c’mon pal, wake up.” With a final shake to Steve’s shoulder the other man uncurled, the look he turned on Bucky one of complete confusion, salty tear tracks drying on his cheeks. Bucky felt something tighten in his chest and he rubbed Steve’s shoulder gently. “You’re home, you’re safe, we’re in our apartment. Snap out of it, okay?” 

“Bucky?” His voice was slightly hoarse and he swallowed hard. 

“Yeah, m’here Stevie. Whatever it was, it was just a dream.” He said, moving back as Steve untangled himself from the duvet with a groan, sitting up, scrubbing his hands across his face. “Hitting the ice again?” He asked, looking at Steve carefully, knowing what his nightmares were often about on the few occasions he would talk about them. 

It had been months before he would even admit to them with Bucky, too busy trying to protect him with what he was going through. Finally Bucky had snapped, telling Steve to stop treating him with kid gloves, to let him in because he wasn’t just going to break. 

Steve shook his head. “The other one. The one where you fall from the train.” He said, voice low and serious, looking across at Bucky as he did, his hair mussed from sleep, dark blond strands falling across his forehead. 

Bucky felt himself freeze for a split second before he drew in a slow breath, reaching out, resting his hand on Steve’s, tangling their fingers together, feeling Steve grip his hard as he brought his breathing back under control. “Okay, you want to talk about it?” 

A slightly hollow laugh escaped Steve as he looked at Bucky again, his blue eyes full of guilt and sadness, dark circles beneath them. “Do you want to?” He asked, the question loaded with the weight of years and ghosts and the things that had happened in the intervening decades. 

“Yes.” Replied Bucky, voice quiet but certain. “We’ve not spoken about it, skirted round the subject but you’ve never talked to me about it, you always change it when it comes down to this. You know that I can take it, Steve. I’m not gonna suddenly lose it because we talk about what happened when I fell from the train. We’ve spoken about everything else. If this is something you’re still having nightmares about, then yes, we sure as hell need to talk about it.” 

Steve chuckled softly, leaning back against the headboard, taking a few moments to collect his thoughts, remembering, thinking back to when it had happened, everything still in crystal clear detail. Bucky waited silently, patient. He would wait as long as it took for Steve to be able to speak to him about it. 

“I still can’t help but think, if I had been faster, if I had reached further… fuck, none of this would have happened. It’s my fault, Buck. My damn fault and I think about it every goddamn day.” The emotion was clear in his voice and he looked straight at Bucky, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that you went through because it didn’t have to happen…” 

Bucky froze, fingers tightening against Steve’s, staring at him, feeling a dark anger flaring within him. “You think that what happened was your fault? It was your fault you couldn’t reach far enough? It was your fault that the metal railing sheared off? None of that was your fault Steve, and shit if you’ve been thinking that it was…” 

“No, Buck. Those parts, that’s not my fault. I mean, I regret those parts, and I do think that if I could just have reached further...but that’s pointless, I tried as hard as I damn well could but…” He took a slow breath, pulling his hand away, rubbing it over his face again as Bucky sat back slightly, giving him the space that he needed. “Before that. There was that Hydra goon that I took down with my shield, I thought he was done…” 

“Oh fuck, Steve…” Bucky could feel an ache deep in his chest at the guilt that Steve had been carrying around with him, at the sheer weight of the guilt and the grief that must have dragged down at him. He knew what was coming, could picture it clearly in his own mind. 

“He wasn’t though. And that’s my fault, my miscalculation.” 

“You saved me, Steve. You pushed me behind you and your shield took the brunt of his shot.” Said Bucky quietly, remembering the way that it had played out, the Hydra agent stood in the doorway, the weapon charging, the way Steve had pushed Bucky behind him, getting his shield up with split second timing to deflect the shot that would have killed him. 

“No. Not enough though, because I dropped the goddamn shield…” 

“It was blown out of your damn hands, you were on the floor at the side of the carriage, what the hell do you think you were supposed to do from that position? You can’t help that that happened, you were fucking shot at with one of their weapons…” 

There was anger rising in both their voices, frustration and anguish mingling in a whirlpool of emotion that was dragging them both around. Steve shook his head. “I should have been quicker off the mark getting back up again.” 

“Really? You weren’t exactly a damn slouch about it. Look, you were on the floor, he was about to shoot you and there was no damn way you could have got to your shield.” 

“I know. I fucking watched it… watched you pick it up, watched you fire that goddamn shot at him even though you knew all it would do is attract his attention, watched you sacrifice yourself for me, and it’s my fault.” The pain in Steve’s voice was hard to bear and Bucky leaned forwards, hands on Steve’s shoulders, kneeling in front of him, looking him directly in the eyes. 

“Yes. You’re right. That’s exactly what I did do. I knew that he’d fire at me, and you know what, I stand by my decision, Steve. I stand by what I did because it was my choice. It wasn’t your fault, no blame lies with you. It was a goddamn war and shitty things happened every single fucking day. Good men died every day. And if I could do my damn part by saving your ass then I was gonna do whatever it took. Shit, Steve, I swore years before that that I’d always protect you. You seriously think that I would pick that moment to go back on it?” He couldn’t help the anger in his voice, couldn’t help the way his words shook slightly, rough around the edges. “There was no way that I could let you die. I couldn’t do that any more than I could grow wings and goddamn fly. There were risks with everything that we did. Every base we went into, every time we did anything and that mission, we knew that was gonna be one of the worst. But I did it willingly, of my own volition.” 

He broke off, sitting back again, looking at Steve, seeing the way that a single tear had traced down his cheek. “Steve, this is not on you. Maybe you will still have nightmares about it, in fact you probably will, but don’t, don’t blame yourself for what happened. I’ve had enough choices taken away from me. Please, don’t take that one away too. It was one of the best damn decisions that I made, and I still hold by it. I love you now, and I loved you then, and if I could save you then that was enough.” 

“But everything that you’ve suffered since…” 

“Is in the past now and it happened and it was shit, but like I said, Steve, if I had to make a choice between my life and yours, you know I’m gonna choose you every damn time, because you’re the guy I’ve been followin’ for the best part of my life. Not Captain America, but you, Steve.” 

“I tried to get drunk when we got back.” Admitted Steve softly. “Sat alone in a bombed out bar crying and trying so hard to get drunk.” 

Bucky swallowed, shaking his head slightly, picturing it, imagining what Steve had been going through, the overwhelming pain of what had happened dragging him down. “Take it that didn’t work… I’ve tried getting drunk and it doesn’t happen.” 

“It didn’t. Peggy tried to talk some sense into me.” Admitted Steve, letting Bucky pull him down again so that they were lying on the bed, the duvet loosely draped over them. He rested his head on Bucky’s shoulder, one arm resting across Bucky’s chest, while Bucky looped an arm round him. 

“Good. Someone had to once I was outta the picture.” Replied Bucky with a huff of laughter. 

“Told me to respect your decision…” 

“She always was a sharp one. But you didn’t listen did you?” He asked, gently carding his fingers through Steve’s hair in a smooth rhythm that he wasn’t sure whether it was for his benefit or for Steve’s. The revelation of Steve’s guilt had not been entirely unexpected. The source had been more so. He knew that it was only days later that Steve had ditched the plane in the ice and when he’d heard about that he felt as though someone had ripped a part of his soul away. 

“Not so much.” Replied Steve with the barest hint of a laugh. “You surprised by that?” 

“Not even close.” Bucky sighed softly, turning his head to press a kiss against Steve’s hair. “Fuck we’re a pair aren’t we?” 

“Messed up you mean?” Asked Steve, rubbing his thumb gently across Bucky’s collarbone, feeling the soft skin over the hardness of the metal that had replaced the bone. He let his fingers shift to the seam between Bucky’s skin and his metal arm, the scarring that was there, now so damn familiar. 

“Yeah, but we’re still together and hell, after everything that’s happened, that’s gotta count for something.” Replied Bucky quietly. “You gonna believe me now though, that none of it was your fault? Because I don’t blame you, and I won’t have anyone blaming you for what happened, and that includes you. My choice. And it was a war, everyone who went there knew they might not make it home.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… it’s been so long and you weren’t there, and I couldn’t help dwelling on it, thinking about what I could have done differently…” He let out a soft sigh. “But, I’m not gonna take that away from you Buck, if the positions were reversed, you’re right, I’d have done what you did.” He replied, feeling a soft sense of absolution washing over him. 

Bucky smiled slightly. “Good. Now, you reckon we can get some more sleep?” 

“Jerk.” Replied Steve, affection in his voice. 

“Punk.” Bucky’s reply was automatic, simply another way of saying ‘I love you’ without needing the words. 

Steve closed his eyes, waiting for Bucky to reach out, turning off the light, before relaxing against him, feeling Bucky there, warm, solid, alive. He listened to the steady beat of his heart, the sound of his breathing, feeling peace stealing over him as he slowly fell asleep again, the weight of guilt and sorrow that had pulled at him for so long suddenly lifted. Bucky waited until he felt Steve relax into sleep before he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. 

There were no more nightmares that night, instead just deep, dreamless sleep that lasted for them both until the morning.


End file.
